I May Be Old Fashioned, But I

"after All," As A Pretty Girl Once Said To Me, "women Are A Sex By Themselves, So To Speak."

For People Who Like That Kind Of Thing, This Is The Kind Of Thing They Like.

But To Die Of Laughter--this, Too, Seems To Me A Great Euthanasia.

There Is Laughter That Goes So Far As To Lose All Touch With Its Motive, And To Exist Only, Grossly, In Itself. This Is Laughter At Its Best. A Man To Whom Such Laughter Has Often Been Granted May Happen To Die In A Work-house. No Matter. I Will Not Admit That He Has Failed In Life. Another Man, Who Has Never Laughed Thus, May Be Buried In Westminster Abbey, Leaving More Than A Million Pounds Overhead. What Then? I Regard Him As A Failure.

Golf: The Most ... Perfect Expression Of National Stupidity.